


worth a thousand words (telling a story in half that)

by clumsygyrl (thegirlthatisclumsy)



Series: Headcanons of the Miscellaneous [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Headcanon, M/M, Photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 15:27:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlthatisclumsy/pseuds/clumsygyrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny Williams wasn't really an artistic guy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	worth a thousand words (telling a story in half that)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Powrhug](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Powrhug/gifts).



> The title is probably longer than the piece. Part of my series of miscellaneous headcanons for different fandoms.

Danny Williams wasn't really an artistic guy. He could tell you who painted the Mona Lisa or where the NY Met was, but he wouldn't consider himself particularly creative. He couldn't draw worth a damn. He hated the feeling of wet clay [too much like mud and sand combined... no fucking way.]. He just didn't understand anything about modern art past those soup can paintings. He'd tried for the longest time to "get it" when he and Rachel were together. But just like his marriage – it hadn't made sense in the end and the breakdown broke down and left him confused (and angry for the most part.)

He went to fancy parties and charity things with her when he could get off shift. He was always uncomfortable knowing that being a beat cop that he made about as much as the guy who was serving the tiny little pastry things on the fancy silver trays. He didn't like or get modern art much.

He did, however, take pictures.

He had scads of them, pictures printed out on his home computer, or from the corner shop, and even a stack of the old school Polaroids from when he was in high school. He got photography. Lining up a good shot, was like... well, lining up a good shot. You focused, sighted down the target, and pressed the trigger. 1 + 1 = end result. 

Picture or dead center paper target.

Hawaii was full of photo ops for tourists, but Danny's favorite pictures are those that he has pinned up on his fridge or in cheap frames littering his desk at home and at Five-0. There were snap shots of Grace in the sand and surf beaming at her Danno. There were shots of Kono and Chin wrestling, arguing, and a lot of them smiling. There are glossy shots of Kono with hair wet and hanging down to her shoulders like water logged seaweed. There were a handful of stills with Chin standing sentinel at the computer table or on the beach or even a great black and white one of him with his hand just resting on the seat of his motorcycle.

The ones of Steve, Danny thinks, that he wasn't maybe not so much artistic as he was honest.

Danny's pictures of Steve told stories of their friendship and their relationship. The too blurry camera phone picture Danny took that first day of Steve (just in case the maniac killed him and he wanted Gracie to know who the asshole it was that got him dead.) There was an entire roll worth of the first year of Steve in action, reaction, and few of inaction, but one in particular of Steve with his eyes closed and beer in hand with the setting sun doing weird things with shadows over his face. There are now folders and megabytes of photos stored on Danny's computer with Steve's face, his smile, his body (because the man continued to be allergic to shirts.) There was even one shaky framed picture of the both of them in bed when the two of them started actually calling themselves an us rather than a separate two. The picture had horrible lighting and Steve's face was half buried in Danny's shoulder and the pillow, smothering a laugh and curse. Danny's hair was standing up in four different directions and his thumb blocked off the lower third of the shot. It was not perfect, but it was so very them.

Danny wasn't artistic or creative. He would never claim to be either.

But he knew how to tell a story.

**Author's Note:**

> Scott Caan is an actual photographer and does amazing work.


End file.
